


Here's To Another

by hnsnrachel



Category: Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-24
Updated: 2009-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hnsnrachel/pseuds/hnsnrachel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt "Erica/Addison, one night" at the Femslash Today porn battle</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here's To Another

**Here's To Another**

She's at the bar, blonde glinting in the flashing lights, disinterested in everything around her. I shouldn't recognize her, not really, after all, I've only met her once, months ago. But, Erica Hahn makes quite the impression. She's a study in contradictions; simultaneously caring and stoic, open with her hers, but closed off with words, actions and body language, beautiful in an offbeat kind of way. She doesn't fit any molds. She's original, intriguing... and I've found myself thinking about her much more often than I should since I left Seattle. I wonder what she's doing - apparently alone - in Los Angeles.

Only one way to find out.

I push through the crows on the dance floor, ignoring the admiring glances of several women as I brush past them, eyes only for the blonde who fascinated me on my return to Seattle Grace. I stand at the bar, sliding into the small space between the people vying for the bartenders' attention, and the bar stool she's sitting on. She turns, a glare aimed in my direction that falls into a shocked and worried expression as she recognizes me.

Trying to reassure her, I offer up  a playful grin. "Erica Hahn. Imagine meeting you here." She looks at me for a long time, tempestuous emotions rolling across her gaze, and I shift, a little uncomfortable. I don't know what she's searching for in my eyes, but the feeling that's settling in my stomach urges me to wait for her to find the words she feels she needs to say.

What eventually escapes her though is not at all what I was expecting. "Don't tell her that you've seen me." The tone is beseeching, not at all something I'd expect from her, and I don't know what to make of that. I know she has to be talking about Callie. but beyond that, her words make no sense to me. They had seemed so close, right on the edge of something more than friendship... what happened between them to make Erica run, to make her hide from Callie over a thousand miles away from home? Before I can decide what to say, Erica stands, glances at me with panic and worry evident even in the darkness of the club, and she's gone, weaving her way through the crowds as deft and elegant in escape as she is in surgery. I wonder if she has as much experience walking away as I do.

I almost stumble on the stairs leading down to a small  courtyard and out onto Robertson, but it's worth it as I catch up to her before she can round the corner and lose herself in the Friday evening crowds on Santa Monica. I don't even think about it as I reach out and grab her wrist, stopping her mid-stride. She uses her momentum to turn and face me, fire and destruction raging, her mouth an almost defeated line, somehow managing to stay steady on her feet as she settles her stance.

"What do you want?" I can tell that the intention of her words is ire, but it fails, and abiding sense of sadness and failure shrouding her words with regret.

"You look like you need a friend." The fire cools a little as I continue, "To be honest, so could I."

***

It was a battle of wills to get her here, but an almost comfortable silence has settled around us as we sit on a couch in the corner of a small bar near San Vicente. It's away from the majority of the action, but it's still technically in a predominantly gay area. I wonder if she's as curious about my presence here as I am about hers.

"So, what brings you to LA?"

She takes a sip of her drink before answering, the one word somehow distrustful. "Work."

"Consult? How long are you here for? I could show you around."

"Actually... it's permanent."

The words escape me before I can think about them, and I know it's a mistake just a split-second after I say them. "Oh. How does Callie feel about that?"

She chuckles, but it's mirthless. "I'm not sure she's noticed. Sloan's probably keeping her plenty occupied." The tension that was beginning to dissipate returns, thickening the air between us, stiffening her posture, the blonde beside me seemingly on the edge of flight. Her words are so bitter that I can almost taste them, and I can't imagine how they feel on her tongue. Something inside me wants to slap Callie silly for whatever she did. I'm not sure she'll tell me... I'm not even sure I want to know, but Erica's hurt and confusion is so evident in the moment, and I know I'll hate myself if I don't at least try.

"What happened?" Panic flutters across her eyes, but she closes it down quickly, and maybe I just don't know her well enough, or she's actually that good at hiding her emotions, but I can't read her at all. "You don't have to tell me." The corners of her mouth flicker, like she's holding back a smile, and I get the feeling that no one could make this woman do something she doesn't want to. "But maybe I can help."

She sips her wine again, tilting her head slightly, a glint in her eyes that makes me shiver.

"Maybe you can."

***

Callie, I've decided, is a fricking idiot. She might be my best friend - though really what kind of best friend can I call her when I've heard nothing from her in months?  - but she's an idiot. I had no idea what was going on. Apparently, Mark has replaced me as the person Callie talks to, although, the way Erica tells it, talk isn't the right word. I'm trying to think of something to say, something to ease the wounds she's suffered when she interrupts my thoughts, the wry tone of her voice making me smile despite myself. "I don't know whether to hit you or kiss you for saying what you did."

I smirk at her, the naughty voice in my head urging me on. "How do you know I wouldn't enjoy both?"

The arch of her eyebrow draws my gaze from her lips. Damn her for mentioning kissing me. The idle notion I was playing with her flourishes into a full-blown demo reel, complete with surround sound in just an instant, and I can't stop my mind from running it on loop.

"You holding out on me, Montgomery?"

"What?"

"I wondered how you picked up on something neither of us had noticed."

"Please. You two had off the charts chemistry."

"I think she was right. You have spent far too much time in LA." I watch as she tries - and fails - to keep a straight face, my body gravitating towards her, even as my mind tells me she's hurt and I shouldn't. Placing my drink on the table in front of us, I take hers and set it beside mine, scooting closer across the leather, my thigh touching hers, our bodies angled towards each other, lips just close enough to faintly feel her breath washing across my own.

"I think you and I chose LA for the same reason."

She laughs lightly, shifting into the desire that coalesces between us, pulling me in, drawing us closer. Our lips are almost brushing when she murmurs, "Addison Montgomery, are you trying to seduce me?"

I let my actions answer for me, closing the space between us, her lips warm and pliant against mine, my hand threading through blonde curls, increasing our contact, stroking my tongue across her lips, begging entrance that's immediately granted, our tongues sliding warm against each other, hunger flooding my body, arousal dampening my panties as I shift again, pulling her as tight to my body as I can, the feel of her against me dragging a ragged moan from my chest.

Eventually, too soon, oxygen becomes an issue, and I rest my forehead against hers, our breath mingling, hot and damp and wanting.

"Wanna get out of here?"

"Yes." It's almost a growl, it's so low and husky, and it's sexy as Hell. I grab her hand, pulling her from the couch, desperate to find a place to be alone with her, imagining her fingers sure and steady against me, my knees weak as she falls into step beside me, and slides her hand across the small of my back between my shirt and my skin. The cool air hits me as we step out of the door, dousing the flames prickling my skin enough that I can think.

"Your place or mine?"

***

Steadying my ankle on her shoulder, Erica slides our bodies together, slick skin pressing against my sex, one of her legs on the floor, providing the thrust she needs to rock our bodies together, her wetness sliding languidly against my own, the feeling more than I had imagined, arousal completely in control.  
Her free hand teases my nipples and I'm begging her - actually begging - to move faster, feeling the burn deep in my stomach. It's too much, way too much. I would never have thought that Erica was such a tease, but she drove me halfway to ecstasy on the drive here, her hand inside my pants, brushing against me through the lace of my panties, never dipping beneath. It's a good job that even LA traffic is non-existent after midnight, because I'd never have got us here in one piece otherwise. As it is, I don't really know how I got us to my bed.

And I don't care.

The rhythm of her hips increases, and I thrust against her as well as I can, words an incoherent babble as the heat explodes across me, my entire body tightening as she drives me over the edge, more heat and warmth against me than should be possible as  I feel her shudder too. My leg falls from her shoulder, her body collapsing against my own, the feeling of her breasts against me prolonging the pleasure. I wrap my arms around her, trying to ground myself as much as her, fighting for breath.

"Where did that come from?"

She lifts her head, pressing a kiss on my lips before settling against me, her head on my shoulder. "I've been alone a lot. Too much time to think." I can hear the loneliness in her voice, feel her trying not to cry, but she loses the battle, a lone sob escaping as tears fall on my skin. It tells me two things - she's more broken that I could ever have envisioned... and she's not even close to over my idiot of a friend. I don't know what to say, if there's anything I _can _say, so I just hold her close, trying to soothe her pain.

We fall asleep wrapped together, but when I wake, the sun harsh through the window, she's gone. **  
**


End file.
